


My Forest Love

by Duster6789



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20474720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duster6789/pseuds/Duster6789
Summary: A story of occurrences between scenes of season 8 Game of Thrones because three scenes plus a silent interaction in the Dragon Pit was not enough.Most importantly, this is a story of Arya finding happiness after her experiences





	1. After the Battle of Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this isn’t an original idea so I am sorry if this is similar to another fanfic. I have not intentionally plagiarised.
> 
> Also, I have made one small change to note, in the books Lord Beric has given up his extra chance of life and given it to Lady Stoneheart. In my version of the Game of Thrones world, the occurrences of the books happen and then the series picks up the remainder.
> 
> I think Lord Beric is dead already and the Brotherhood are fighting at Winterfell with Gendry and so I have written that Harwin dies to protect Arya. He seems like the one member of the brotherhood who would.

The Hero of Winterfell. Bringer of the Dawn. Night King Slayer. She even heard someone call her Azor Ahai and the Princess That Was Promised. More names to add to Arya Horseface, Arya Underfoot, Arry, Lumpyhead, Lumpyface, Weasel, Nymeria, Nan, Squab, Salty, No One, Blind Beth, Mercedene, Mercy, Cat of the Canals...

She had taken all of these many personas to hide Arya Stark and keep her safe. She had worn many faces for the same reason. She didn’t even know who Arya Stark was anymore. She was lost.

She had expected to die the night before in the Battle of Winterfell and had wished for a heroes death so that Arya Stark could be remembered even if she could not remember herself. She had told Gendry that she looked forward to seeing Death and he had not heard her true meaning.

She lay abed, knowing it was the morning after the battle, completely unable to move. The weight on her chest was heavy as she fought not to mourn the loss of her former self. She was swallowed by her depression.

She thought back to the day that Jon had returned to Winterfell. He was the only person who knew the real Arya. The one who preferred bastards to true borns and who preferred the butchers boy as a playmate to her own sister. He could talk her down when she had gotten frustrated and shown her a better way to deal with things just as she did for him. They loved each other unconditionally as brother and sister and she had longed for his return but he was... different... he was strained from the weight of responsibilities but when they saw each other all of their concerns fell away and they were children again.

For a moment she thought of leaving the room to find him but could not bear to see all of the bodies and she knew that he would be with his Queen.

Arya respected her, she had ridden her dragon and fought alongside her armies instead of hiding in the crypts like she could have, but she did not trust her. Arya could tell when a person lied and her smiles lied and she had heard of her brutality in ending House Tarly. She knew a liar and a killer when she saw one. Arya delighted at her anger towards the Queen because it meant that she felt something.

She fell asleep again until the late afternoon.

She lay abed as the day turned to night again until there was a light knock at the door. She knew that knock and knew that she would not need to dress for her visitor.

She got up to let Sansa enter. Sansa walked into the room full of confidence and radiant with beauty. She envied her in that moment because she, herself, felt so low. Sansa glanced around the room and then at her sister.

“Still abed at this hour?” Sansa asked. “Last night was a long night but I thought you would be off somewhere water dancing or sharpening your blade or... whatever it is that you usually do.”

“Today is not a usual day. I did not expect to live.”

“So you intend to live without living now?” Sansa’s question hit Arya in the gut, like she hadn’t really thought about her future and now she would have to.

“I’m not sure what happens now,” Arya told her sister, being more honest than she intended to.

“Well right now there is an awful lot to do. Wood and stone is being collected for rebuilding the castle, some of that wood is for building the funeral pyres... the funerals are the first priority at the moment. We expect the pyres will be finished tomorrow and we will hold a ceremony and have a feast in their memory. Will you be attending?” Sansa asked.

“Of course,” Arya responded.

“There is lots to be done. If you are not comfortable taking the role of a lady overseeing work then perhaps you might like to work with your blacksmith in the forge?”

Arya had not felt like herself all day but she caught onto her sister trying to catch her out. “My blacksmith?”

“A slip of the tongue, I meant _the_ blacksmith,” Sansa corrected herself, studying Arya’s face.

“That’s a lie. What do you want to say Sansa?”

“He asked me if I had seen you. I told him that you were alive but that I had not seen you. He looked relieved, as though he really cared for you,” Sansa told Arya, as though trying to provoke a response. When she didn’t get one, she added, “he is quite handsome. I thought it quite interesting that a blacksmith would appear to have fallen in love with a lady who loves weapons in the House that he serves. Quite poetic really. I didn’t think the songs of romance held any truth anymore but this has given me hope.”

“Gendry isn’t in love with me. We are old friends but since he has been in Winterfell I have only spoken to him three times at most so your romance story is badly written.” The moment she said his name, she realised that she had given into her sister’s gossip but she didn’t care. If Sansa wanted to know then why not tell her. “I lay with him last night but he has been with three other women before me so he must be able to detach emotion from the act.”

“Yes, well there is no need to ask whether you can detach emotion. Although, I wouldn’t be so sure that he has. Have you eaten anything today?”

“No.”

Sansa made to stand and started to look through Arya’s trunk. Arya let her, she knew about her faces so she had nothing to hide. Sansa found a dressing gown and threw it onto the bed beside her sister, “I will ask the kitchen to send some food up, put that on so you are fit to be seen.”

Arya did as her sister said and dressed and ate. She was not one for arguing today. As she ate, she thought back to an old daydream when she and Gendry were outlaws together, living a simple life... and she was happy. She had dismissed the daydream at the time and dismissed again now that she was recalling it. Sansa had put the thought of it in her head when she had suggested that he loved her. She had loved Gendry once when she was still Arya Stark. He had known the real Arya as well... but he had chosen to leave her for The Brotherhood... and it had hurt her. She clung to the feeling, again, reminded of being herself. Still... if he felt something for her now that she was a woman who had wanted to spend her last night with him... maybe a simple life with Gendry would be the best future for her. He could run his own forge and she could hunt and they could grow vegetables... and now she felt happy. Maybe she should allow herself to think about Gendry more and maybe the Arya, who was lost in the House of Black and White, might come back.

She awoke the following day with much more purpose than the previous. She was going to attend the ceremony to honour the dead and then she planned to slip away again because she was not yet ready to face the crowds entirely. She feared that they might honour her... and she did not feel honourable.

She followed her sister’s instructions again and stood by her side. Sansa had been the only who noticed Arya’s emptiness and was making sure that she was fed and cared for. She even did her hair for her. Arya was to light the pyre where Harwin lay. He had died to save her. She felt something when she looked at him... grief and guilt, perhaps? He had always cared for her at Winterfell and with the Brotherhood. She suppressed it easily though.

When Arya returned to her place, she knew that Gendry was close to her, standing a row or two behind her, and it was a comfort to her. She knew that her daydreams the night before were not real but he was still a comfort.

When the crowd started to move into the castle again, she slipped away with ease, avoiding the places where people would look for her, including her own room where she had hidden all day the day before. She stopped by the kitchens to see what she could steal and moved between the storage areas of the castle, careful not to stay in one place long enough to be caught. She found a bow in one and decided to loose some arrows to occupy her time and keep her focus. The people in the courtyard below were merry now and she knew that it was late so she would be able to return to her room soon.

Then she saw him coming. She was ready to be found by Gendry but he was walking too fast for the turn to where she stood, so she loosed an arrow to stop him in his tracks. It worked, he grinned at her, held his hands up and said, “don’t shoot!”

He wasn’t usually so cheerful so she assumed that he was drunk and she smiled slightly at him in return. His cheer was contagious and she noticed, for the first time, that the people in the courtyard below were playing music.

He started to speak before he was even at her side, “it’s night time, it’s freezing and everybody’s celebrating. You should be celebrating with them!”

‘_I have been hiding for most of the day and shooting these arrows is the most exhilarated I have felt since the battle_,’ is what she thought but instead she said, “I am celebrating.”

She found herself listening to the song... she thought she recognised it.

“Yeah, I am too.” He paused and she could sense his lack in confidence in what he was about to say, she started to turn to look at him. “I’m not Gendry Rivers anymore. I am Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”

It felt like a devastating blow. Only yesterday, she was thinking that the only life that she could look forward to was with her blacksmith... but she didn’t want to be selfish and so, instead, she said, “congratulations.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, it was rushed and excited on his part and she wanted it to last longer. In her empty feelings, she longed for moments of happiness... or anything.

Below they sang, ‘_My featherbed is deep and soft,  
and there I'll lay you down,_’

“Now, I don’t know how to be Lord of anything... I hardly know how to use a fork.” He was so animated and happy that she gave him a small laugh in response. She knew that he was being silly with his honesty. When they were young, he would never admit to such a thing for fear of her calling him stupid and that was how she knew how heart-felt this was. He had not planned it at all. The words were spilling from him in his drunkenness. “All I know is you’re beautiful and... I love you and... none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me... so be with me.”

‘_I'll dress you all in yellow silk,_  
and on your head a crown.’  
_ For you shall be my lady love,  
and I shall be your lord.’_

He dropped to one knee on the floor and her heart dropped with him.

“Be my wife, be the Lady of Storm’s End.”

‘_I'll always keep you warm and safe,  
and guard you with my sword_.’

She had no words. A rush of memories of the time she spent with him returned to her... only this time she noticed all of the times that he had tried to make her feel bad for being ‘mi’lady high’... and she realised that he wasn’t being a stupid bull... he had loved her and was frustrated that he couldn’t be with her.

‘_And how she smiled and how she laughed,_  
the maiden of the tree.  
_ She spun away and said to him,  
no featherbed for me.’_

She didn’t know what to say so she knelt down to kiss him. She had loved him too and the memory of that love lingered within her... somewhere...

She had thought that he had known her as well as Jon. At least, he had always dealt with her as well as Jon, and said the same things at the same time as her like Jon... but surely he didn’t know her at all if he thought she could be the Lady of Storm’s End. She hadn’t even got out of bed the day before... how would she be expected to take on a responsibility like that?

‘_I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,_  
and bind my hair with grass,  
_ But you can be my forest love,_  
_ and me your forest lass.’_

The end of the song prompted her that she needed to speak. There were tears forming in her eyes as she kissed goodbye to being the happy partner of a blacksmith...

“You’ll be a wonderful Lord and any Lady would be lucky to have you... but I’m not a Lady. I never have been. That’s not me.”

He blinked and stepped back as she watched the sadness creep into his expression. He had been so elated until she had said that. She reached for another arrow so that he wouldn’t see her on the verge of genuine crying.

“But... you’re daughter of a Lord and you grew up in a castle.” He stopped as he was obviously thinking back on their time together as she had done. “You really have never wanted any of this life have you? I always thought that you didn’t want me to feel bad about being a bastard... I never thought that you would prefer me that way.”

She was still stifling tears but when he stopped speaking she fired her arrow to break the silence. She missed her target.

“Arya, we went through so much together...”

For the first time in a long time she felt angry, really furious, “and you LEFT me. You joined The Brotherhood and I didn’t see it coming. I wanted you to be with me! What about that?”

“You ran out into the night, never to be seen again by any of us!” He shouted back, ours is the fury, she thought to herself. “We hadn’t got you there to your mother, Thoros saw it in the flames that it wouldn’t be safe to take you there and you decided to run away. I walked around in the rain searching for you, shouting your name... do you have any idea how stupid it is for an outlaw to shout the name of a wanted, missing highborn girl? I didn’t care! I wanted you back with me!”

“Well, yes, but you are stupid! Stupid and drunk just like your father before you.” She spat the words out and watched his heart break again only, this time, he walked away.

She felt just like she had back then when he told her he was leaving her. Angry, hurt, devastatingly sad and completely in love. She did not cling to the feelings though now because she had the terrible fear that these feelings were going to stay with her for the rest of her days.


	2. After the Burning of King’s Landing

Arya sat watching the sea. It had always soothed her, and she had thought before, that there must be more out there, across the sea. There were, surely, endless possibilities. There could not only be Westeros and all it’s corruption and betrayal. She had been to Braavos in Essos and only experienced more pain. Surely there was something further to the west. An untouched land that she could make her own or another civilisation that lived more simply.

If she concentrated on the ebb and flow enough she could drown out the pain of the events in King’s Landing... and the fear of losing Jon.

She had just survived the very worst experience of her life. 

She had thought that she had seen terrible things before... a crowd gathered to cheer her father’s murder... Northmen slaughtered in the camps at The Twins... her cruel training at the hands of the Many-Faced God and his servants... and an army of dead people sent to kill all of mankind.

However, what had happened yesterday was nothing more than senseless killing of innocent lives. She had been amongst the people and only had her narrow escape based on luck, not her own skill. Once she would have acted without emotion and done what was necessary to survive, but in that situation she was terrified and did not want to die. She was fighting to save herself and as many others as she could. She had mourned for the mother and daughter who had showed her kindness. 

Queen Daenerys had shown her mad Targaryen traits to everyone and had to be stopped. Jon had been the one close enough to do it. It must have broken his heart and now he was imprisoned, awaiting his sentencing.

She had thought of using her skills as a Faceless Man to rescue him and planned to go into the city to scout soon. She had hope and it felt strange.

Arya thought she saw a shape on the water, but the glimmer of the light played tricks on her eyes, so she looked away.

Sandor Clegane had convinced her, in very few words, that she had something to live for. He had found her and Gendry dressing after their time together before the battle, uttered his usual expletives and ushered Gendry to the frontline. Arya, found herself smiling at the memory. She knew she should be embarrassed but she thought, maybe, Sandor had thought she might live for Gendry. As though love could overtake her thirst for revenge. She had written to Gendry, before she had gone into the city, to apologise to him. It was not really like her to apologise, but she had expected to die killing Queen Cersei, and she did not want Gendry to remember her by the way they had last spoken.

She knew that she had given him up. She did not want her life to be for a man and she supposed that she could go home to Sansa and Bran as well and live for the North. The life that she knew best. She could not leave Jon here though. 

Her eyes had kept returning to the place where she had seen the shape before and could now see that it was a rowing boat. She watched it with great fascination until she noticed two people on board rowing. She stood up and started to walk toward where the boat would come to land and found a hiding place. If this were a threat, she could neutralise it before they even reached the camps of Northmen, Unsullied and Dothraki.

She watched as the two men rowed in perfect unison until they hit the sand. At once, they both climbed out and began to drag the boat to an obscure place near to her position. She gasped. One of the men was Gendry and the other had the same black hair and blue eyes. She would suppose that people might say the second man was more handsome than the first... but then she had never loved anyone but Gendry...

She left her position while their backs were turned as the men emptied their boat of bags and weapons and was upon them when they turned to face her.

The new man moved to attack her before he realised that she were a girl, “mi’lady you should be careful sneaking up on people like that.”

“Don’t call her that. She’s very defensive about being a Lady,” Gendry told his companion.

“It’s nice to see you again, my Lord,” Arya said to him, her face frozen.

Gendry ignored her coldness. “Arya, this is Edric Storm, Edric this is Arya of House Stark,” Gendry told Edric and Edric raised his eyebrows.

“I have heard a lot about you, Arya Stark, Bringer of the Dawn. Gendry has brought legends of you to the Stormlands,” Edric nodded to Arya as a friendly gesture and she returned it with a feint smile. Jealousy and anger spread across Gendry’s face and she could tell that she had not lost his affections.

“What are you doing here, Gendry?” Arya asked frankly, “it isn’t exactly safe here.”

“I heard. Our ship is around this cliff, out of view. House Baratheon has no army because of the war so we are in no position to help. I suppose that is what happens when three brothers take an army each and end up fighting each other. Anyway, we decided to row to land to remain unseen. Then we- I... I wanted to find you. I got your note.”

“Well, you found me. What do you plan to do now?”

He looked at her hard, “if I’m honest, I didn’t know if I would find you at all, nevermind so quickly. I just needed to check you were... ok.”

She returned his hard look, “why wouldn’t I be ok? Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“I know that you can. It’s just... the things you said in your note were so... final... and you always seek out a fight. I thought you must have put yourself in danger... maybe you planned to kill the Lannister Queen like you used to mutter when you didn’t think I could hear you. I thought you must have been in the city.”

“I was,” Arya told him. It was the first time she let down her guard and a tear formed in her eye. She choked it down quickly and hoped he hadn’t noticed although, somehow, she knew that he had. He really did know her very well but she did not know Edric Storm and didn’t want to confirm anything in front of him. “Forgive me for asking, but am I right in assuming that the two of you are related?”

“Yes my Lady, Lord Gendry is my half-brother,” Edric had started to say but Gendry was already shaking his head, visibly not happy with what Edric was telling Arya.

“I keep telling you not to call me Lord Gendry. Edric is far more qualified for the job than I am, it’s just I have been given the name that’s all. We were at odds at first but he is my closest ally now because want the same things,” Gendry was talking fast. He was looking between Arya and Edric like he did not want them to speak.

“Gendry, I can assure you that I don’t necessarily want everything that you want,” Edric told him and Arya smiled. It was clear that he meant her.

Gendry flushed like he had when a whore had complimented him when they were with the Brotherhood. She watched him and grinned and that terrible feeling of being punched in the stomach returned to her. She loved him still.

Gendry and his new brother explained that they had to return and she was welcome to go to Storm’s End where she would be safe but she refused. Although, she was much more pleasant than she had been at the start of their meeting. She watched them row away with a sense of hope for a possibility that she had given up on. Love.


	3. Before the Meeting at the Dragon Pit

Arya pushed her brother Bran’s chair, on the path from King’s Landing to the old Dragon Pit. They were heading to a meeting of the High Lords and Ladies of Westeros. She had not imagined Bran would want to go to this meeting but, then, he was probably going for the same reasons as her. For Jon. Sansa walked alongside them with such grace it was almost as though she was gliding. Sansa belonged amongst the others. 

Then she saw another fish out of water. Gendry looked very handsome in his black leather but he did not look comfortable. Arya asked Sansa to push Bran while she caught up with Gendry. Sansa looked almost smug as she agreed.

She felt much lighter these days after letting go of her vengeance. She was still saddened that Jon was locked away, she had tried to rescue him but he had refused it because he wanted to face his punishment for killing his Queen. She had agreed to leave him, for the sake of his honour, but had sworn to take him away if he were sentenced to death. He didn’t seem to take her seriously, and agreed with her to appease her, but she had it all planned.

“You look good, my Lord,” Arya said to Gendry, with a teasing tone to her voice.

He smiled widely, “thanks, so do you.” She returned the smile. “I understand why the title annoys you now. I have to say, I’m very surprised that you would want to come to this meeting.”

“I’m here because they are deciding the fate of Jon,” Arya told him.

“That makes sense, well, I do hope you don’t threaten to kill anyone today,” he looked down to her fondly. She wanted to touch him so she decided to shove him and he laughed as he stumbled. “If it helps, my Lady, I am on Jon’s side. I owe him so much, and all the Dragon Queen did for me was burden me with a title that should belong to my brother... although, if she hadn’t, then I would never have gone to Storm’s End and met him.”

“How are you finding it all?”

“Edric is my Castellan and Steward so he is a busy man, but that is what he wants, and I tend to spend most of my time working with the small folk trying to improve their conditions. I would step aside for him but there is no King or Queen to ask to legitimise him.”

“You would give it up so easily? I thought you had always craved to raise up.”

“All I ever wanted was a name and a family. Those were the things that I craved. I hated being so low that I couldn’t even have a last name and... I was a lonely orphan. Everything else is superfluous to me,” he told her as they turned into the Dragon Pit arena and he spun around to take it all in, “just like all of this. It is a ruin now but it obviously used to be grand.”

“I’m sure it did. Did you just use the word superfluous? Who are you, Gendry Baratheon?” She laughed as she asked and he giggled in return.

“I’m still your blacksmith, Arya Stark.”


	4. After the Meeting at the Dragon Pit

“Why didn’t you say anything in the meeting?” Arya asked Gendry as they sat drinking wine.

His lip twitched. “I- it sounds stupid to admit... but I was frightened that they might make me King if I drew too much attention to myself.”

She wanted to laugh but knew it would upset him. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning though, she looked down to try to hide it.

He picked up on her grin, “don’t laugh,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry-“

“I’m not saying that I thought I was the best candidate, just that my father was the King, I just didn’t want them to remember that I was there,” he was smiling at her so she knew she hadn’t upset him and she understood his point.

“Ok, ok!”

He was in the best mood and it was very contagious. She couldn’t stop grinning at him. He had been happy about receiving his lordship but now he was ecstatic to be free of it. Bran had agreed to legitimise Edric and make him Lord of Storm’s End because he is the elder brother. Technically, Gendry was still the heir but he was confident that Edric would start a family soon because he had a childhood sweetheart who was suitable. Gendry was visibly relieved as he sat with one arm resting on the table, his hand almost touching hers, and the other on the arm of his chair. His body language was open and he gazed out of the window at the sunshine with a small grin on his face, she wondered what he was thinking.

“Will you go back to Storm’s End?” She asked, interrupting his thoughts. She missed a breath just asking him. She didn’t want him to go.

He looked at her and his brow furrowed even though his smile remained. “Well, I have to go back tonight to take the documents to Edric... but if you mean will I stay... I have thought about that a lot and, honestly, I don’t know,” he paused. “For the first time in my life, I don’t have to smith anymore and I don’t have any other responsibilities... and I’m not on the run from the Lannisters.” She gave a small laugh. “I feel like I should do something... else.”

“Like an adventure? Would you like to see some of the world?” She asked, a small twinge of hope in her chest.

“Something like that yes... does it sound silly?”

“Not to me. I have always wondered what is West.”

“West of Westeros? That does sound like an adventure,” he said with a smile and a thought.

“One that would appeal to you?”

“Are you asking me to go with you, if you decide to go?”

Arya stopped to think. She had given him up as a stupid romantic dream and she had never wanted to be a girl who needed a man... but yet he made her feel so happy. When he was around she either felt happy because he was happy or happy because one of her favourite things was to boss him around... she supposed, subconsciously, she did want him to go with her and that was why she had told him her plans.

“If you don’t mind that I would be in charge. It was my idea after all.”

Gendry laughed from his belly, “Arya, you are always in charge. I follow your lead whenever you let me. Now, I’m going to get more wine.”

They drank another flagon between them, discussing their strange day. Arya had one brother who was born to be King but yet it was her other siblings who were both going to be royalty. Jon was going to live and that is what mattered. Arya had always thought that Gendry saw things very simply and now that was proving to be a very useful skill. She had been trying to stop herself from shouldering so much blame for all of the bad things that had happened in her life and Gendry was very good and simplifying every situation so that it became manageable and less stressful.

“Jon volunteered for the Wall all those years ago and ended up being in charge. He created peace between the Wildlings and the Nights Watch. I reckon he would probably want to go back to see Tormund and Ghost,” Gendry offered.

“And give up his family and Winterfell? He is losing so much.”

“He’s going to live with the Freefolk, Arya... free. He killed a Queen and gets freedom. He’s lucky. And as for his family... who would he stay with? Sansa? You’re the one he cares about most and you want to see the world.”

She looked at him, “I think you’re either starting to make more sense than ever before or I have drank too much wine,” she was looking at him like she had never really noticed him before. “Gendry, why did you ask me to marry you? Surely, you knew that I wouldn’t want to be the Lady of a kingdom.”

“I said it all in my terrible speech. It all seemed so perfect and simple. I was in love with a Lady and wanted her to be with me and, since I was a Lord, that was possible. Why not ask?”

“It felt like you didn’t know me at all.”

“I had to risk it. Why live your life not knowing something that you want to know? I loved you, and wanted to know if you loved me back, and you don’t. I’m very happy that we’re friends again though.”

He took her breath away, “I did,” she admitted, surprising herself. She continued, while staring at her cup, unable to look him in the face, “I loved you when I was too young to realise what the feeling was. I was heartbroken when you said you were leaving. By the time we met again, I was broken, and the memory of loving you was too feint. I have been working on piecing the broken Arya back together. I enjoy more now and feel sad more... instead of just feeling... numb.”

She didn’t look up but she knew that he was staring at her.

“What happened to you?” He asked. She was so astounded that he was concerned about her, rather than all she had said about loving him, that she looked up at him.

“The Hound tried to ransom me to my brother Robb and I witnessed the slaughter of hundreds of Northmen and I knew my mother and brother were dead. He tried to ransom me to my Aunt Lysa but she had died too. I grew angrier and less hurt after all of the loss and the Hound encouraged it. Then I went to Braavos where the Many-Faced God taught me to feel even less, to master my emotions so that I could carry out His work effectively. I trained to fight in brutal conditions and eventually failed Him and was forced to kill to survive. The Many-Faced God wanted me to give up Arya Stark... and I almost did... it has been hard to find my way back.”

“So the scars are from the brutal conditions... and The Hound called you cold... we lay together, a time that should be intimate, and you were... distant.”

“I’m sorry-“

“By the gods, don’t be sorry. No one should have to fight to survive as hard as you have. The war is over though, you don’t have to do any of that anymore.”

“I know... and now I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What makes you happy?”

“Doing something useful and purposeful... and my family, but they won’t be in one place anymore... and you. Drinking wine with you tonight has made me smile so much that my face hurts.”

“Then you should go West of Westeros or be with me,” he said, trying to pass the last part off as a joke with a smirk.

“Why not both?” She asked.

Her answer seemed to surprise him and he moved to kiss her. She kissed back with everything she had. He broke apart, took her hand and guided her out of the tavern.

When the fresh air hit her, she realised how drunk she was. She pulled on his hand to drag him down a small alleyway where she kissed him again and she felt him smile as he kissed her and pressed her against a wall. Instinctively, she started to unfasten his jerkin, and he pulled away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No... just let’s get to a room to do that. I don’t want to be caught tangled up in passion with a newly appointed princess in the streets of King’s Landing.”

“A princess? Ugh, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Well, that ruins my mood.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re feeling the urges when you had just been saying how numb you were. You must be getting better.”

“You make me better,” she said, pulling at the waistband of his breaches.

“Ok, let’s get you off the street.”

“Weren’t you supposed to go back to Storm’s End tonight?”

He laughed, “yes, well, sometimes plans change when you’re with the right person.”

His words rang true with her.


	5. Departures

“I wish there had been another way. Forgive me?” Sansa asked Jon, her eyes filled with tears.

Jon paused for a long time, obviously looking for the words to say. He was sad. Arya had visited him in the cells a number of times and he had been this sad ever since he had killed the Queen. He could not forgive himself. She watched him fight his expression into a small smile as a responded to Sansa, “The North is free thanks to you.”

Sansa gave a small nod and said, “but they lost their King.”

“Ned Stark’s daughter will speak for them... she’s the best they could ask for,” Jon replied, and it moved her to hug him affectionately.

Arya’s eyes were stinging, she kept trying to remind herself of what Gendry had said... he was going to be free. She didn’t want him to go. The thought of not seeing him again was devastating.

“You can come see me, you know, at Castle Black?” He said to Arya, as he moved from Sansa and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was like he had read her thoughts.

“I can’t.”

“You think anyone would dare tell you women aren’t allowed?” He said with a smile.

She laughed but felt sad. “I’m not going back North.”

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked.

“What’s West of Westeros?” She aimed her question at Jon.

He gave a small laugh and said, “ I don’t know.”

“No one knows. It’s where all the maps stop. That’s where I’m going.”

Jon and Arya shared a look of understanding that she had to do something of worth and not be in Westeros anymore. If anyone would understand, it was him.

“You have your Needle?”

“Right here.”

He wiped away a tear from her cheek before he hugged her. Unable to look her in the eye, as he moved on to Bran, for fear of breaking down.

He kneeled before Bran. “Your Grace, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

“You were exactly where you were supposed to be.”

The look her brothers shared said more than their words. Jon was always going to regret leaving Winterfell in an attempt to be more than a bastard. He should have stayed with Bran and Rickon to keep them safe. Bran stayed resolute. He saw no sense in regrets.

Jon took one last look at his siblings before turning towards the row boat that awaited him.

Arya parted ways with her brother and sister, not to be alone, but to find Gendry.

She rode fast though the Kingswood to Storm’s End, thinking that she would find him there. He had left first thing in the morning. However, she found him in the forest on the way.

She immediately threw herself into his arms. She had spent her whole life trying to prove that she wasn’t vulnerable but Gendry had seen her as a child who lost her father. He had known her at her lowest moments, some of her happiest and at her most intimate moments. She had nothing to hide from him anymore. It took Gendry some time to calm her but he found the right words and held her until she slept.

Arya woke up a few hours later with a terrible headache, she wondered if you could dehydrate from crying too much, and quickly found a spring for some water.

It was going dark now and she sat watching Gendry building a fire, his brow furrowed as he focused on the task. He was so strong across his chest and arms but building a fire was delicate work of making sure there would be airflow so that it might stay lit. She revelled in the fact that he was so capable of both being delicate and forceful.

It was settled in her mind, whatever happened next in Arya’s life, Gendry was going to be there with her. She had been thinking about things simply, as Gendry had unknowingly taught her, and concluded that her aversion to handsome men and love and marriage was based entirely on Sansa’s obsession with it when she was younger. She had thought that, to rebel against being just like Sansa, she had to be the exact opposite to her. But now she found herself asking herself, why give up something that made her happy just to be rebellious? And Gendry made her happy. Simple as that.

He finished, lit the fire and sat back. As he did, he lifted his head to look at her and realised that she had been watching him. She walked over to sit beside him, “Gendry?”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, suspiciously, as though she only ever said his name in that way when she wanted something from him. She laughed, against her own will, at how he made fun of her ways. Her laughter provoked him into turning in his seat slightly to look at her properly.

“Gendry, there’s something that I want to say.”

“I want to hear it.”

“It’s just... I don’t know much about being a Lady, I don’t even own a dress.” She had not planned what to say, but she realised that this was a familiar speech, and so she carried on, “all I know is that you’re beautiful... and I love you... and none of this will be worth anything if you’re not with me. So be with me... Be my husband. Let’s live a simple life without any Westerosi pressures. Together.”

“Are you mocking me?” He asked her, with a small nervous laugh.

She laughed back. “No, it’s just a perfectly honest way of telling you... that I was broken and just being around you helped me to piece back together again somehow. I could spend the rest of my life trying to prove that I can manage everything on my own like I always have but I don’t want to. I want you as my partner for life. The only man that I have ever loved and ever likely to love. I don’t want to live without you.”

He looked stunned but happy as he pulled her into a long, deep kiss.

“Of course I will,” he kissed her again. “So we will be Lord and Lady Baratheon, first mate and Captain, respectively, of the ship that finds the world West of Westeros?”

“Just Gendry and Arya, but otherwise yes, that sounds perfect,” she said as she kissed him again. Their bodies fell together to a mattress of leaves, they ran fingers over each other and undressed as they kissed and before long he was inside her. The thrusts were not painful at all, anymore, she felt like he was a part of her now. He kissed her, stifling her moans and turning into breathy kisses as they started to build. They were in perfect harmony as they moved their hips together. Every time she wanted him to do something, he did it without her having to ask. And then her release came only moments before his. Her eyes were closed as she felt him fall to the ground beside her and, as her body relaxed, she fell into a deep sleep.

———————————

Sansa and Bran both looked at her like they had expected the news. As if it were predictable that Arya Stark would fall in love and get married.

Arya had returned to her siblings while Gendry had continued on to his brother.

“Sansa, would you mind giving me away? You are my elder sibling and I don’t believe it has to be a male,” she asked her sister, who was swelling with pride.

“I would be honoured. Will you marry in the way of the Seven as they do in the south? Take protection under his cloak?”

“I think we all know that Gendry and I will protect each other so no. We will marry in front of the weirwood tree which, miraculously, did not get burnt.”

“I know just what to give you as a wedding gift,” Bran chipped in, “I want you to explore the world in the name of the King and so I can give you a Stark ship. You will have to fly the Stark sigil on the sails instead of Baratheon, will that be an issue?”

“Bran that will be wonderful, thank you,” she said, excited to tell Gendry the news.

“You know that I cannot see the future, but I am sure that you and Gendry will be very happy together.”

The wedding was private, only Sansa, Bran, Ser Davos and Samwell Tarly were there and they did not share the news beyond them and Edric. Arya wore her usual outfit but allowed Sansa to do her hair into a braided updo. They agreed not to make a big fuss of the wedding and to do it quickly but it turned out to be a fun day for everyone in attendance.

They recruited a maester and some sailors for the ship but there were nowhere near enough men in King’s Landing anymore. Gendry had wanted to see Edric again before they departed and so they recruited from there as well. Edric Baratheon was delighted when he received them at Storm’s End. While Gendry had been away, Edric had married too and so he threw another wedding celebration with far too much food so that there would be enough for the poor as well.

When they eventually set sail, Arya looked out to the ocean, she could see no land on the horizon, only possibilities. They had brought two maesters with different expertise to report to the Citadel on their return, enough men and provisions to last two years, and she had a blissful marriage with her blacksmith. She watched the gentle ebb and flow of the waves and smiled with a genuine happiness.


End file.
